


Putting It Behind

by LyriaFrost



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gang Violence, M/M, Multi, mentioned OC death, some potentially disturbing talk, street!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1511666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyriaFrost/pseuds/LyriaFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Michael gets a call from an old friend from Jersey, he rushes back to the streets, regardless of the years he’s spent away from there now. Needless to say, things don’t exactly go as planned.<br/>I wrote this story based on a wonderful prompt I found from teamdynamicdumbasses on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting It Behind

"Alright, sir, can you please tell us once again how you ended up in that warehouse?" Michael thunked his head back against the hospital bed in frustration. 

"Oh my god, how many times do I have to explain this shit to you fuckers?" Needless to say, the two police officers sitting next to his bed were not entirely thrilled with being spoken to that way. Fortunately, Ray chirped up from the other side of the bed, trying to relieve some of the tension in the room. 

"I'm sorry, officers. He gets defensive very easily. Michael, please... can you just relax and tell them again? I know you've told this story to a dozen other people, but just do it again, alright?" 

"Ray..." 

"Remember, the docs said you can leave as soon as their done, right? So let's just get this over with. Gavin is texting me every five minutes asking when we're leaving, and the gents really aren't doing any better. They're going crazy having to just wait at the hotel for us." Michael sighed, grumbling under his breath as he resituated himself on the hospital bed. 

"Alright, fine then... where do you want me to start?" 

"How about with the phone call you say you received on the-" One of the cops pulls out a notebook and flips to a page. "15th of April?" 

"Okay, yeah. Well, it had been a pretty normal day until that afternoon..." 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Gavin, I swear to fucking god, if you do not sit your ass down and shut up, I am going to hit you." 

"But Michael! I just need to-" 

"No, you do not. You do not need to do anything. Ever. I mean it. If you mess up this card house yet again, I am going to kick your ass." Gavin sighed, flopping back on the sofa, leaning sideways so that his head was pressed against Ray's shoulder. The Puerto Rican lad was sitting next to them on the sofa, completely engrossed in some Pokemon game, totally ignoring his boyfriends. 

"This is bloody awful. Here I am, off work on a beautiful spring day, with two of my favorite boyfriends next to me, and they're both just ignoring me. 

"Oh, quit being so melodramatic, Vav." Gavin pulled away from the other lad as if burned, ruffling up like a bird that had been disturbed. 

"I see how it is then, I'm just not good enough is that it? Or course, it is, I'm not good enough to compete with a deck of cards or some videogame." Michael groaned from where he was sitting, not able to see Gavin's face to determine if his boyfriend was actually being insecure or just trying to get attention. But just as he was shifting his weight to be able to look at the British man, the sounds of the Zelda theme song filled the room. Michael snatched up his phone, paling as he read the caller ID. 

"Hello? Yeah, I know who this is- what are you talking about? Slow down, just- hang on one minute." Michael turned to Gavin and Ray, who were both paying close attention to him now. "Sorry, I just need to take this call, I'll be back." With that he stood and rushed from the room, heading out the backdoor where no one could hear him on the call. 

"Do you have any idea what that was about, X-ray?" 

"No... but I've never seen Michael react like that to anything." 

"I've never seen him get so pale... I wonder who called him." 

"I don't know, but maybe he'll tell us when he comes back in." 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Are you the Ray mentioned in this narrative?" One of the police officer's interrupted Michael's story to clarify a point. 

"Yeah, that's me. We live together." 

"How long have you lived together?" 

"It's been about... I dunno, I guess like 3 years now." 

"Thank you. If you would please continue." Michael glared slightly. 

"As I was saying..." 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Ray had gone back to playing his game by the time Michael came back into the room, and Gavin was laying on his shoulder again, appearing to watch the gameplay. However, both of their attention was still fixated on the back door, and when they heard the creaking sound, they immediately sat up and turned to face the other lad. 

"Michael? Is everything alright?" Michael looked like he was in a daze, one hand gripping his phone tightly, the other pressed to his temple as if to ward off an impending headache. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I think so, Ray... but... something has come up, and I think I need to leave for a little bit." 

"You need to leave? Why?" 

"It's, um... that was a friend of mine from back in Jersey... he's over in New Orleans. He needs some help on a project he's working on. I know it's last minute, but he wouldn't call if it wasn't really important, so I just need to leave for a little bit. No more than 2 or 3 days. But I need to go now, so... well, yeah." Gavin and Ray exchanged worried glances with each other, but stood up nonetheless. 

"Okay then... well, we'll come help you pack." Michael looked strangely relieved that they accepted it so easily. 

"I'll just take a duffel bag of stuff, I don't need anything fancy. And I promise, I'll call the gents on my way and explain everything." 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"And you just let him go?" Yet again, the police officer's question was directed at Ray, who flinched at the accusing undertones. Michael bristled, but Ray soothed him with a squeeze of the hand. 

"I mean, he hadn't given us any reason to mistrust him in the years he had lived with us. And he's a grown man, if he wants to go out of state for a few days, we can't really stop him." The police officer, a middle-aged man who looked as if life had not been entirely kind to him, simply waved for Michael to continue the story. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Michael packed quickly, Ray and Gavin helping him grab a few articles from around the room, as well as his passport and some extra cash, just in case. It was a matter of minutes before he had his bag thrown in the trunk of his car, and he found himself hugging Ray. 

"I don't know what's going on, Michael, it seems like there's something else wrong. But I trust you... just be careful, okay?" The Jersey hugged him tightly, reaching out to pull Gavin into the hug as well when he came outside. 

"I will, I promise, I'll come home to you." Michael kissed each boy carefully, keeping it sweet and simple but trying to put all his emotions into them. "I know I don't say it nearly often enough, but I love you, both of you, all of you, so much." 

"We know, Michael. We love you, too. You'd better get going now, don't want to make you late." At that, the lad's attention seemed to shift from the boyfriends in front of him to somewhere deep inside his own mind. 

"Yeah, right, don't want be late." With little more than a backwards wave, Michael jumped into the car and sped off. 

"Do you think it's okay to let him go, Gavin?" 

"We can't keep him, Ray... I mean, we told the gents... and he promised to call them. He's a grown man." 

"I guess so. C'mon, let's go back in. We need to start dinner soon anyway." 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"So you got the phone call, and you just left home?" 

"Yeah, it was someone who- well, I owed them a debt. And where I come from, that's something we take very seriously." The police officers exchanged a look before turning back to their notes. 

"Right. Well, our notes say that you took a plane to New Jersey early the next morning?" 

"Yeah, I drove to an airport a couple hours away and bought a ticket on the first flight I could get." 

"Alright, then tell us what happened when you got to New Jersey." 

"Well..." 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"God fucking dammit, watch where you're going, asshole!" 

"Yeah, right back at you, fucker." Michael grumbled as he walked away from the idiot that had run into him on the sidewalk, but on the inside he was kind of enjoying it. New Jersey was very different from Austin, Texas. Even though Michael never wanted to go back on the streets, people in Austin were much more polite, and didn't usually go around swearing at each other for every little look. 

But now Michael was back to his original problem at hand, mainly that he was just wandering the streets, still trying to find this fucking building that his friend had directed him. He knew it was somewhere in this block, but he was getting tired of walking in circles, and his duffel bag was getting damn heavy on his shoulder. Suddenly, Michael heard a noise from the alley next to him. 

"Psst... Michael, is that you?" 

"Rodney?" 

"Yeah... quick, 'fore anyone sees you." Michael ducked into the alley, his instincts from years of surviving on the street slowly coming back to him. Standing out in the open during a conversation was never a good idea. 

"Well well, if it isn't Hot Rod." The man standing across from Michael in the abandoned building was grinning now. He had bleach blonde hair and bright blue eyes, a lean frame that Michael knew belied an amazing amount of muscle. 

"Mogar Jones... you know, I was afraid you wouldn't show up." 

"Why wouldn't I? I told you I'd come, you know I don't break my word." 

"Yeah, but... well, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't come back here. Word on the street is that you've been dead these past years, but there's a few of us who know that you left, met some new people who helped you get out and start a life somewhere else." Michael shook his head. 

"Doesn't matter where I go, Rod, this place is always part of my past. I can't just run from it, I have to deal with it and put it behind me." 

"That's part of what I called you about... I need your help." 

"With what?" 

"I may have... met this girl." 

"Oooo old Hot Rod finally found someone that can tie him down, eh?" Michael was surprised when the other man actually got a faint flush to his cheeks. 

"Well, yeah... she's something special, Michael, and she deserves way better than this. So I need your help, man. You're the only person I know who's ever gotten out of a life like this... There are some bad people after me, I need a way out, for good." 

"Rodney... I don't know what you expect me to do. I can't handle whoever's after you by myself..." 

"I know, I just... I need someone to help me get out of this city. Once I'm out, I'm safe, I just need someone to help me get out of this godforsaken state." Michael was just about to answer when the sound of a firing gun echoed through the room. Rodney grunted, falling to one knee, clutching his now bleeding shoulder, and Michael didn't even have time to react before the room was suddenly flooded with men. The two of them found themselves on their knees, aggressively restrained. 

"Well, Rodney, did you really think we wouldn't catch up to you eventually?" Michael recognized that voice and groaned, hanging his head and glaring at Rodney from the side. 

"You motherfucker, you didn't tell me that you managed to piss off the Cutter." 

"Oh, and who would this be?" The thug behind Michael grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back so the whole room could get a clear look at his face. 

"Let go of me, you fucking-" 

"Looks like we caught an even better prize than Hot Rod tonight, boys. Ol' Mogar Jones... the most feared name on the Jersey streets for close to ten years." 

"Oi, boss, someone must've heard that gunshot, the cops are on their way here." The Cutter scowled, waving a hand towards the grunts restraining the two men. 

"Knock them out, we're taking them with us. Let's get going before we have to deal with the cops on top of all this." Michael renewed his struggles, trying to get free of the grip on his arms, but the last thing he knew was a searing pain in the back of his skull before the world went black. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"So let me get this straight... you went to a shady abandoned building to meet a guy you hadn't seen or talked to in at least three years. He ended up shot and the two of you were knocked unconscious for easy transport?" Michael scoffed and rolled his eyes, directing his answer at Ray instead of the middle-aged police officer. 

"I think I just said all that, isn't that the basics of the story I just finished telling?" 

"Michael, play nice." 

"Ugh. Yes, sir, that is what happened." 

"And you woke up in the same place we found you later?" 

"Yeah, the place I woke up in was that warehouse on Second, not that I knew that at the time..."  

"Goddammit! You're all a bunch of cowards. Easy to punch a man when you've got him tied to a fucking chair." Michael yelled and raged at the ring of thugs around him, all of them taking turns to punch him in some part of the body. Groin, gut, chest, arms, even his face had not gone untouched, and one eye was swollen shut. Michael was pretty sure he also had a broken nose, at least one broken rib, and some serious problems going on internally based on the blood that he was coughing up lately. 

"Now now, Mogar, we've only just begun. You know, you managed to piss off an awful lot of people back in the days. Though back then, you were smart and quick enough that no one could ever catch you. Full of clever tricks though, always finding ways to pit the gangs against each other for your amusement, managing to highjack any shipment you wanted to get your hands on. But now? Something has changed in the three years you were supposedly dead." 

"Oh really? Care to tell me what that is?" The Cutter entered the circle of thugs, brushing them back with a wave of his hand. 

"You're weak now, Michael... and I think I know why." The way the gang boss drew out his given name was obviously intended to be an insult, but Michael wasn't affected at all until he noticed what the Cutter was holding. 

"Where the fuck did you get that?" 

"From your duffel bag. Full of nice things by the way, I'm sure we can pawn some of that for a pretty penny. But you know, this phone is full of wonderful pictures. I can't help but wonder who these five men are, at least one appears in almost every photo you have. And judging by the... compromising... positions some of these depict them in, I'm going to assume that they're very important to you." 

"I swear to fucking God-" 

"You swear what, Michael? I must say, you're really not threatening at all tied to a chair like that. There's a part of me that wants to go out and find these people. Maybe I'd bring them back here, make you watch while I broke them. That blonde-haired one is awfully pretty, we always have fun with boys like him. And that little dark-haired one, he looks like he'd scream so nicely-" 

"You sick fucker, don't you touch a single hair on their heads, those people don't deserve to be dragged into any of this. This is between you and me, they have nothing to do with this." 

"Oh, Michael... those years off the streets have made you naive. Those men have everything to do with this... because I bet you, if I brought them here, I could break you so easily. And I'd love to do that more than anything else, I want to see the look in your eyes, so completely broken." The Cutter stood up from where he had been crouched in front of Michael. "Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for them, I don't have time for any of that. I have a big deal going down tomorrow, and I need to finish this up long before that. But first, I will do the little bit that I can to hurt you before you die." The gang boss pressed a button on the phone, dialing the first number in the speed-dial before putting the phone to his ear. Michael could hear the tinny little voice on the other end of the line. 

"Michael? Michael, where are you, we've all been so worried. Ryan already hacked into your computer, Ray is gone bloody mental, what's going on, Michael?" The Cutter laughed mockingly, cutting off Gavin's panicked rambling. 

"Oh Michael, listen to how worried he sounds." 

"Gavin! Gavin, everything is alright, I promise, don't worry about it-" The boss gestured to someone standing behind Michael and they stepped forward, slamming a fist into his stomach. 

"Michael! What- who's that strange man?" 

"Oh Gavin, I'm afraid your dear Michael won't be able to come to the phone anymore. In fact, he's never going to talk again, not once we're done with him." With that, he dropped the phone to the floor, gesturing to the thugs still loitering around the room who immediately started pounding into Michael again. Every grunt of pain, every sound of skin against skin was going through the microphone of the phone, and Michael could hear Gavin getting more and more frantic. 

"I'm sorry... Gavin... I love you all..." The Cutter stepped on the phone, crushing it into a pile of small pieces. 

"Well wasn't that touching. And now you can die, knowing that your boyfriends or fuckbuddies or whatever they are, are out there worried and panicking and knowing that they will never see you again." 

"Fuck... you..." 

"No, Michael Jones... fuck you. Now then, boys, make it quick please. No use in drawing things out anymore for a useless shit like this one." With that, the Cutter turned and left, sparing not even one more glance for the man tied to the chair. As fist after fist continued to make contact with his body, Michael found his vision blurring at the edges, slowly fading to black. 

"I- I'm s-sorry... I l-love... you..." 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

There was a deep silence in the hospital room, only broken by the beeping of the monitors, after Michael finished his story. 

"And that's... that's all I remember... after that, I woke up here." The middle-aged police officer scribbled a few more things into his notebook, finally flipping it shut. 

"Very well, Mr. Jones. Thank you for cooperating with our investigation. I believe we have everything we need from you at this time." The two police officers stood and moved to exit the room. 

"I just... can you tell me what happened to Rodney? The other man who was there?" The other police officer, a younger man who had not spoken the whole time they were in the room, turned around at the doorway to answer. 

"I'm sorry to have to tell you, but... he didn't make it. We found him in another room in the warehouse..." 

"Oh... well, thank you." The young officer smiled softly before slipping out of the room, leaving just Michael and Ray alone at last. The Jersey man was staring down at their intertwined hands, breathing deeply. 

"Michael? Are you- is there anything I can do for you?" Michael spent a moment longer staring before he answered slowly. 

"No, I just- what happened after I blacked out, Ray? I should be dead right now, I shouldn't have woken up in a hospital room with all of you around my bed." 

"Oh... well, I guess the day after you left was the same day that Jack had planned to go through the finances. He happened to be checking the bank statements when the charge for your airplane tickets came through. And Ryan... he hacked into your accounts and got the information about the flight. We tried to call you, but you weren't answering your phone..." 

"Sorry... I guess I forgot to turn it back on after the flight..." Ray was quiet for a moment before sighing and continuing on with the story. 

"Well, we were worried... so we booked ourselves flights to Jersey for later that day, because we didn't know if you'd need us or not, but it seemed better to be here just in case. And then... we were sitting in the Charlotte airport, waiting for a connecting flight to take us to New Jersey, when Gavin's phone rang with your number. Ryan and I were away getting food, but apparently neither Geoff nor Jack could hear anything from your end of the conversation. But Gavin's reactions were enough to clue them into what was going on, along with the the things he was saying, how pale he got..." Michael felt a surge of guilt for putting all of them through that. 

"I'm sorry... I made stupid mistakes, I forgot that I'm not the same man that once lived on those streets, I wasn't used to that lifestyle anymore... I didn't hear the men sneaking up behind us, or I could have prevented all this." 

"I think we're all in agreement that you were pretty stupid, but... we aren't mad at you, not anymore now. I wasn't even there for that phone call, but just what I heard was enough to stop my heart and-" Ray took a deep breath, leaning over and pulling up their entwined hands to press them against his forehead. 

"Ray..." 

"Anyway, we called the New Jersey police from that Charlotte airport. Turns out that, even though your phone was mostly destroyed, it was still functional to the point that it was trackable. The police raided the warehouse, were able to find you before they did you in, and we got to the hospital just about the same time you got out of surgery. After that, it was just a waiting game, and you know everything else that happened since then." Michael sighed, reaching an arm out to wrap around Ray and pull him down for an awkwardly-angled hug. 

"I'm sorry... please believe me, I've learned my lesson now, and... I never meant to hurt any of you..." Ray squeezed a little tighter before pulling back to press a kiss to the curly-haired boy's forehead. 

"We know... it was a tough situation... but we need to work on you not meaning to hurt yourself as well." Michael looked a little guilty, but Ray refused to let him pull away at all. "No, Michael, it's just the truth. You try so hard not to hurt us, but don't realize that you're hurting all of us when you let yourself get hurt. So that's what we're going to work on now, and don't think we're going to be leaving you alone for a very long time." Michael smiled softly. 

"Don't worry about that, I won't be in a hurry to be alone again for a very long time." Ray moved back to lean his forehead against Michael's, both of them just taking a moment to reassure themselves that they were both there and whole and actually breathing. The quiet moment was broken by the squawking noise coming from Ray's phone. 

"Some day, I am actually going to kill Vav for setting that as his tone in my phone." 

"Yeah, but you'll never change it." 

'Well of course not, it gives me the perfect excuse to beat on the poor Brit whenever I have a chance. But c'mon, we should probably get going before they get tired of waiting and come to take you away themselves." Ray reached over Michael to grab the remote that would let him call the nurse to come unhook all the machines, but before he could do so, Michael was grabbing his face with both hands and pulling him down for a long, slow kiss. 

"I love you, Ray, and there's no where I'd rather be than down in Austin with all of you. That life, that is my life all now, and all this here is just something that I need to put behind me." 

"Someday, Michael... someday, it will all be behind you... but until then, we'll keep fighting to keep you with us." Michael thought about the fact that he was here in this room, beyond all odds, because this men had fought to bring him back to them when he was gone. 

"You know what, Ray? I really believe that."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/criticisms/ideas are much appreciated!


End file.
